Be Comfortable in Your Own Skin
by deangirl1
Summary: Sometimes clothes make the man, and sometimes they are superfluous. What kind of lover is Dean?


"Damn it, Sam! I hate this damn penguin suit," Dean growled as the brothers climbed the stairs to the doors of the mansion. Festive lights and tasteful decorations seemed to be everywhere.

"Gotta blend in, man. This is the easiest way to get the intell we need to get the job done. Would you rather be a guest or the hired help? Me? I think this is a nice change for us, and these suits are about the only thing we have to thank Bela for." Sam couldn't help but grin at his brother's discomfort.

Sam knew that Dean hated to wear a suit, so a tux was just plain torture for his older brother. They'd not had much call to wear anything other than their standard jeans, t-shit, and flannels as they'd grown up. Dad didn't believe in organized religion, so dressing up for Sundays was never an issue. Even when they'd stay at Pastor Jim's his congregation was pretty relaxed. Sam had gotten used to having to dress up at school, though. There had been formal school occasions and taking Jess to the spring ball. The smile faded from Sam's face as he thought about that happy night – the first time he'd worn a tux, and been about as comfortable as Dean.

"Just stop picking at yourself, will ya?" Sam batted Dean's hand away from his tie and collar.

"I'm telling you, I feel like I can't breathe!" Dean snarked at his brother out of the side of his mouth. Then he poured on the Winchester charm as they stepped through the doors into the Christmas ball and presented their "invitations" to the person collecting them.

"Thank-you, sir. Please step right into the main ballroom. You'll find the bar in there." The girl smiled at the two handsome men in front of her. They were a little younger than most of the crowd and a welcome distraction. They certainly filled out their tuxes in a very satisfying way.

"Well, at least the night won't be a total bust," Dean sighed and headed purposefully in the direction the girl had indicated.

"Hey! Go easy, huh? We're on the job here remember," Sam chided his brother. Really, he knew that Dean would never screw around on a job, but his brother could get distracted given the right motivation.

"Yeah, yeah, Samantha. One drink isn't gonna put me on the floor or singing karaoke. We are supposed to blend in, right?" Dean arched an eyebrow in Sam's direction.

"Well, do you want to keep a look out here while I take a peek in the library then?"

"That's the plan, right? The plan that _I _came up with? Cuz, ya know, it's just possible that I might remember that," Dean's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Fine. No need to bite my head off. Jesus, Dean, could you be crankier?" Sam raised his eyebrows at his brother. He wasn't sure if it was just the suit or what, but Dean was definitely a bit wound up.

"Sorry, Sammy," Dean couldn't help but respond immediately to the look on his brother's face. "I'll keep watch from the bar while you make your way to the library. Just watch out for Colonel Mustard…"

"Yeah, ok," Sam couldn't help but chuckle.

"Jerk."

"Bitch." Dean responded fondly as he watched his brother move through the crowd.

The guy who was hosting the ball and owned the mansion also owned a very rare collection of occult texts. Sam was after a particular passage in one book that was supposed to contain a ritual to dispel a particularly nasty hex that had been left by some witch or other in a small nearby town. People were dying and they had to put a stop to it. Sam being research-geek extraordinaire, it only made sense for him to be the one to examine the texts – he'd find it faster – it was his job. Just like it was Dean's job to watch his back.

Dean leaned against the bar in a sham of a relaxed pose as his eyes darted restlessly around the room, scanning for any possible threat. He had to admit the liquor was much nicer at swanky affairs like this. In fact, he was so engrossed in watching Sam's back that he didn't notice the lithe brunette who came up beside him at the bar.

"Did you misplace someone?"

"Huh?"

"Did you misplace someone? You are about to set fire to the room with that death glare." She smiled up at him.

"Uh, no. Well, um, yeah. My brother is…" Dean stuttered as he looked down at her brilliant blue eyes. She had long dark brown hair that hung quite naturally almost to her waist. She wore a tasteful amount of make up and a knock out little black dress that perfectly complimented her muscular, trim frame. She was neither thin nor fat; she wasn't really his regular "type", but he was finding it hard to form a coherent sentence in front of her. He blamed the damn tux.

"This doesn't seem to be your regular thing."

"Pardon?"

"This doesn't seem to be your regular thing," she repeated patiently. "You seem a bit… uncomfortable." She was perceptive, he'd grant her that.

"I'm fine." Dean tried to feign indifference and nonchalance.

"Are you from around here? Old friends of Mr. Dawson? Business associates?"

Dean almost snorted his drink out his nose at that but managed to hold it in.

"No. Not from around here. We do have a business connection with Mr. Dawson. Just in town for the ball tonight, actually."

"I'm not really from this area myself," she supplied.

"This is more my brother's kind of thing," Dean let the truth help him out. "Seems like this is your kind of thing though."

"Work for me. It's nice to dress up and pull the high heels out from time to time, but this isn't the way I'd normally choose to dress. For one thing, I'd be hard pressed to get away from any rabid dogs!"

"True!" They both chuckled at that and Dean took the opportunity to admire the effect of said shoes on her shapely, toned legs. He felt the familiar warmth that a pair of truly nice high heels could inspire in him. He slowly swept his eyes back up to hers, slowly blinking, his long lashes brushing his cheeks.

"Don't take this the wrong way because you do look just fine in that tux, but I'm guessing it's new and you can't wait to ditch it." She mimicked his head to toe to head sweep, slowly bringing her eyes back to his. She slowly blinked at him and smiled. The effect of her eyes and smile had Dean responding in the usual way.

But he was working. He had to have Sam's back and even as he smiled back at her, he broke the eye contact to quickly sweep the room with his intense eyes.

"I have to get back to work," she briefly touched his arm and turned to the bar behind them. She rummaged in her little handbag, pulling out a pen and a business card.

"I'd really like to see you in your natural habitat. I'm a people watcher, so I'd like to see how close I am between what you generally look like and the picture I've conjured in my head." Dean gaped at her. This had to be the strangest pick up line he'd ever heard, but he took the card she held out to him anyway.

"Look. Really. I'm not a freak. Here's the name of a bar. I think you'd really like it. I'm going there when I'm done here. If you feel like meeting up, I'll see you there. If not, good luck tonight." And with that she smiled at him and melted into the crowd with her drink.

It wasn't long before Sam reappeared.

"Are we good?" Dean asked immediately.

"Yep. Got it."

"Good. Let's get the hell out of here."

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

As luck would have it, the bar that the mystery girl had told Dean about was about two blocks from the motel they were staying in. It wasn't until they were in the car that Dean realized he hadn't gotten her name. It wasn't on the business card. Well, an M. Ewan was listed on the card. Dean amused himself for a lot of the ride back to the motel in trying to figure out what the M stood for. Martha? Meredith? Mercedes? Matilda? Margaret? Maggie? Mary? Dean sucked his breath in.

It wasn't hard to convince Sam to check out the bar. He wasn't even particularly curious as to why Dean wanted to check out that specific bar. Dean didn't have a reason for not telling Sam about the girl, but for some reason, he just didn't.

As soon as they were through the doors of the bar, Dean knew it really was his kind of place. A long bar with plenty of booths and pool tables in the back. Classic rock played in the background. Dean smiled. Pretty _and_ smart. He glanced quickly around and realized that M wasn't there.

The two brothers found an empty booth. Dean went to the bar for beers and Sam set up his laptop. He figured Dean was up for a little hustling to unwind, and he wanted to get a start on analyzing the information he'd garnered from Dawson's library. He was a little surprised when Dean just slid into the booth across from him and didn't really give the pool tables or the resident women a second glance. In fact, if Sam didn't know better, he'd swear his brother was looking for someone.

"Dude. Are you looking for someone?" Sam raised his eyebrows at his brother.

"Uh. Well, actually, this hot chick at the ball tipped me off to this place and said she might drop by later…" Dean grinned sheepishly at his brother. Sam chuckled in return.

Leave it to his brother. In the mean time, they both shrugged out of their coats and began discussing the case.

After about twenty minutes, Dean glanced toward the door when he saw it open, and there she was. Now she was wearing snug jeans, a white blouse, and a leather jacket. She had boots with a low heel on. She'd be able to outrun that rabid dog in those.

_Well, most rabid dogs_, Dean thought with a smirk.

Catching his brother's look, Sam turned in the booth. He was a bit surprised. She wasn't the flashy beauty that his brother tended to gravitate towards. And then he saw her smile as she saw Dean. Her blue eyes were positively brilliant and her smile seemed to light up the whole bar.

Dean stood up as she approached the booth.

"This is my brother, Sam." Dean made the introduction as Sam rose to his feet and extended his hand. "And um, this is Mmm..???" Dean raised and wiggled his eyebrows as he smiled at their new companion.

"It's Michelle," she filled in, extending her hand to Sam. "Your brother…." It was her turn to lift her eyebrows questioningly.

"Dean," he supplied helpfully.

"…and I didn't actually exchange names earlier," she continued easily. "It's nice to meet you, Sam." She slid into the booth opposite Sam as he sat back down.

"Can I get you something?" Dean asked.

"Beer looks good," she smiled up at him.

Sam was expecting to feel like a third wheel, but Michelle showed no sign that she was the least bit disturbed at being on a triple date as it were. They passed a couple of companionable hours just getting to know each other. Well, as much as the boys ever got to know someone who would never truly know their world.

As it turned out, Michelle was an art and antiquities dealer who travelled quite a bit for work. She and Sam talked easily about art. Dean was beginning to lose interest in the conversation when the subject suddenly turned to movies. Michelle, apparently, was also a huge movie and pop culture buff. The conversation eventually meandered to the subject of travel as Dean mentioned that the two of them did a considerable amount of it for their work – which he kept purposely vague.

She was actually just passing through town on her way home to spend Christmas with her family who lived in the next state. She told the boys if she wasn't home by tomorrow, there would be no living with her mother.

Eventually, Dean began to grow restless and his eyes fell on the pool tables.

"Hey. How about a game of pool?"

"I'm in," Michelle responded immediately.

"You two go ahead. I have some work I really want to catch up on," Sam smiled. "Don't let him play you for money," he warned Michelle.

"No worries," Michelle laughed. "He couldn't possibly pretend to be worse than me!"

The smile stayed firmly on Sam's face as he watched his brother and Michelle head to the pool tables.

Dean picked a table that gave him easy access to keeping an eye on Sammy and racked up the balls.

"So, do you know how to play?"

"A bit."

"Wanta break?"

"Ok." As soon as she picked up the cue, Dean knew that he had been had. She caressed it like an old friend.

As the game progressed, Dean had the opportunity of admiring the pull of her jean across her tight ass as she leaned across the table for a difficult shot. She returned the gaze in kind as Dean assumed a similar stance on his next shot.

Dean chalked his cue as he leaned one hip up against the table.

"So. You haven't said. Is this the wardrobe you were expecting to see me in?"

She let her gaze begin at his feet: CAT boots – check. Lived-in Levis– check. T- shirt under flannel over shirt – check, and finally the leather jacket back in the booth– check.

"Yep. You didn't disappoint me, Dean." She smiled appreciatively at him. "I suppose about now, you're missing my high heels though."

"No. Not so much really." Dean returned the smile.

For his part, Sam was pretty sure that he knew where this evening was heading. It had been a long day, and he was ready to make his way back to the motel. He was pretty sure that Dean wasn't going to miss him…

"Hey, Dean?" Sam made his way over to the pool table after finishing what was left of his beer and packing up the computer. "I'm gonna head back to the motel, ok?"

"Oh. Sure. Um…" Dean looked at Sam and then back at Michelle.

"Dude. I'm a big boy. I can get my own ass home, and I'm thinking that maybe Michelle can drop you off…?" Sam turned and smiled at their new friend. He left it purposely ambiguous. Whether she dropped his brother off directly from the bar or later that night or early tomorrow morning was entirely their business.

"Sure. No problem." She quickly agreed.

"Ok. The keys to the Impala are in my coat pocket." Dean smiled at his brother. "Sure you're ok to drive?"

"Dude. I only had two beers. The rest were all you." Sam just shook his head. Michelle laughed.

"Ok, ok. Just be careful, alright?"

"Yes, Mother."

"That 67 Impala is yours?" the admiration was apparent in Michelle's voice and as always, Dean swelled with pride when he heard it.

"Sure is."

"Well, giving you a lift just got to be no bother at all. I saw your car when I went back to my motel to change. We're staying at the same motel." Michelle laughed.

Dean watched his brother leave the bar.

"He _is_ a big boy." Michelle offered.

"Huh?"

"I'm sure he can make it back to your motel by himself just fine."

"Yeah, sure he can. It's just that he ran into trouble not long ago when he left ahead of me… and well, now… I kinda worry, ya know?" Dean looked a little sheepish.

"Oh." She gently ran her hand up his arm to his shoulder and then back down to squeeze his forearm. She couldn't help but notice the hard, muscular definition of his arm and her breathing hitched just slightly in response to her body's reaction.

"It's ok. He knows how to take care of himself. It's just hard to turn off the big brother sometimes." He looked down at her and smiled a bit wistfully, covering her soft hand with his own calloused one.

"So! How about you show me how to do that last shot?" Michelle wanted to lighten the mood back up.

"Ok. Just let me set the balls up for us…"

After Dean had re-set the shot, he had Michelle line her cue up for the shot, which meant she had to stretch over the table slightly. In order to be able to guide her through the shot, Dean came up behind her and leaned over her to put his hands over hers to guide the cue. It meant the entire length of his body was pressed into hers. He placed his chin just over her shoulder and breathed lightly on her ear and cheek. His body began to respond to the contact.

Michelle felt the warmth of his body as it pressed into her back and his breath on her neck. Suddenly, she felt warmth spread throughout her body, building between her legs. She felt his body responding as well.

"So, you just need to gently tap the cue ball a little below and to the right of centre," Dean's voice was low and soft on her neck.

"Yeah…" She was really having a hard time concentrating on the shot. Neither of them was surprised when she missed.

They broke apart laughing, and both reached for their beers to cool off a bit. Suddenly, as they moved around the table, it was impossible not to brush up against each other. Michelle would trail her hand across Dean's ass as he bent to take a shot. Dean would be standing close enough to brush Michelle's arm as she stood up from the table.

Still, it didn't take them long to clear the table. As they finished their game, Dean noticed they'd also finished their beers.

"You about ready to call it a night?" Dean looked at Michelle and his lashes slowly brushed his cheeks.

"Oh, yeah. I'm done here; I'm good." Michelle answered his look with one of her own that left little doubt in Dean's mind about where the evening was going to end up.

They grabbed their coats from the booth and headed out to Michelle's car. It was a chevy, but a newer model. As they crossed the parking lot, Dean snaked his arm around Michelle's waist and she leaned into the contact. She returned the gesture by placing her own arm around Dean's waist and pressing their hips together as they walked.

"It's definitely not your Impala," she said as she unlocked the door for Dean, "but it's what I can afford and it's reliable for work."

Dean caught her hand as she moved it off of the door and lightly ran his hand up her arm to her shoulder as he stepped into the curve of her body. She stepped in to meet him and tilted her face up towards his. He dipped his head down to meet hers and their breath intertwined in the cold night air. Both of them shivered, but it had nothing to do with the chill in the air. He lightly brushed his lips against hers. It was clearly a question. Not a demand. Never a demand.

She pressed up to deepen the kiss and answer his question. Their tongues pressed together gently. He swept his over her bottom lip as his hand slipped under her hair and caressed the back of her neck.

She was the one to step back and break the contact.

"Let's get out of here. It's cold!" She smiled up at him and shivered. He chuckled and slid into the passenger seat. She quickly moved to the driver's side door and slid behind the wheel.

It didn't take long to get back to the motel. Sure enough the Impala was sitting in the parking lot as if it was waiting up for them. Dean could see that the light was still on, so he knew that Sammy was probably up researching. He shook his head. That boy needed to learn how to relax more.

Michelle parked directly in front of her own room, which was almost at the opposite end of the motel from Sam and Dean's room. It was a fairly obvious invitation.

"Care to continue our conversation," she glanced over at Dean and blinked at him slowly.

"Oh, I've got a _lot_ more to say," he smiled back at her.

As Michelle bent to open the door to her room, Dean was suddenly behind her, pressing his body into her back and curling around to be able to drop soft kisses on her neck. It caused her hand to shake so that she fumbled with the key in the lock.

A soft throaty chuckle escaped from her. "You're not helping me to look smooth in front of you."

"Oh, darlin'. You are plenty smooth enough for me." His voice was low and his breath was hot on her neck.

They broke apart as she finally got the door open and they stepped over the threshold. She turned to face him as he kicked the door to with his foot. She stepped up to meet him without ever bothering to turn on a light.

His fingers lightly traced the line of her jaw, sending a shiver through her entire body. And then they traced the line from her chin to her ear and his hand gently slid back through her hair to gently cup the back of her head.

The kiss was whisper light – just their lips brushing together and hot breathe caressing each other's faces. She looked up and he was looking back with those intense hazel eyes. Yet they were somehow softer. A smile tugged at her lips and the kiss as they both realized that they were gauging the other's reaction.

And then as his hand slid back his eyes slowly closed and he deepened the kiss. For a moment she was disappointed that he had broken the eye contact. She wondered if he was still thinking about _her_ face. Then it struck her how unfair that fleeting thought was because she could tell that he was totally in _this_ moment. As the kiss deepened, she knew in her heart that for this moment she was the focus of his world. She knew it wouldn't last, but it didn't matter; it didn't need to last any longer than these moments they would share. And she gave herself totally to the kiss and the man in her arms.

She pressed against his lean hard body, feeling him respond in kind. She lightly ran her fingertips up the front of his chest, savouring the feel of his well-muscled chest and sliding her fingers over his collar bones between the flannel shirt and the t-shirt. Softly, she ran her hands over the well muscled shoulders and down the arms, feeling the curve of his bicep as she deftly slid the flannel shirt and leather jacket off of him and let them fall to the floor. Gently she caressed his arms on the way back up and then allowed his tender hands to trace up over her collar bones and drop her leather jacket to the floor.

His hands moved over her back pressing their bodies close together, and she could feel the warmth building within her as her desire grew. Their hips melded together and she could feel the swelling of his growing erection press up against her crotch.

Her hands explored under the t-shirt, stroking upwards on his chest and pulling the t-shirt up and over his head. He broke the kiss to let her pull the t-shirt over his head. She just wanted him naked, to breathe in all of him. Ducking her head to his chest, she lightly teased his skin with kisses and flicks of her tongue, ghosting over his nipples. He let his head fall back and a low moan escaped from his lips.

And then he was cupping her chin and drawing her back up to him and pressing a deeper kiss. Tongues explored and twined. He drew her bottom lip gently into his mouth, tugged and released and then thrust his tongue in again.

His hands, meanwhile, deftly undid the buttons on her blouse and in one movement, he brushed it off of her shoulders and reached behind her to unclip her bra, sending it to the pile of clothes growing on the floor. And then his long beautiful fingers were cupping her breasts, exploring and stroking and then tweaking and gently pinching her own growing erections.

As one, they moved to undo the other's jeans. Like a mirror image, they slid the jeans and underwear down over hips, to complete the pile of clothing on the floor. They moved in tandem towards the bed.

She took his long, slender erection in her hand, enjoying the silky feel of its shaft and the pulsing, wet readiness of its head. Meanwhile, he slid his hands between her legs, playing with her nub and enjoying the moist warmth that signalled her readiness and eagerness to continue. Both were making low contented noises deep within their throats now.

They'd reached the bed and he gently supported her back onto it. She quickly scooted up until they were both lying fully on the bed. He continued to tease and rub her, letting first one and then two fingers find their way inside her. She moaned and arched up to meet his hand. She continued to gently tease his shaft and then her fingers moved back to lightly stroke his scrotum and balls.

She twisted slightly so that she had access to his erection without breaking his contact with her. She let her tongue replace her fingers on his shaft licking and teasing her way to the head. He moaned and arched towards her. She took him gently inside and flicked her tongue teasingly around the base of his head, causing him to buck against her.

In retaliation, he managed to increase his attentions to her breast with one hand and use his thumb to continue stimulating her as his fingers sought deeper and deeper access. She bucked again and again to meet him.

"Dean," she finally breathed. She couldn't stand anymore, "Please. I want you. I want you in me."

"Are you sure?" he teased.

"Oh, hell, yeah!"

He moved to straddle her. Her hands rose to trace the contours of his abdomen and chest, finding their way gently down his arms again, stroking. He quickly slipped the condom on and leaned in to gently kiss her. His hands busied themselves with her breasts as his hips manoeuvred over her torso. And then he was thrusting up inside of her. Her hips crashed up to meet him. They moved in a slow and steady rythym, enjoying the sensation and letting it build slowly. Dean ducked his head down and they kissed deeply again.

She raked her nails gently along his back as they continued to move in tandem, their passion building. He arched into her touch, his breath growing harsher. He moaned as he moved even more deeply within her. They were both glistening with a fine sheen of sweat from their exertions. He continued teasing and tweaking her breasts, and her breath began to mirror his harsh pants. She moaned and gasped as she rode the waves of her growing pleasure. She could feel the ripples of muscles as his pleasure grew. His moans became grunts as he struggled to hold on, wanting above all for them to crest the wave together.

And then suddenly, with a burst of white light behind closed lids, they were over the crest, and he collapsed gently onto her waiting body. Soft lips brushed her own, and his head came to rest beside her own as she wrapped her arms around his torso, gently stoking his back and enjoying the feel of him slowly shrinking out of her. Small noises of spent pleasure reverberated in the back of both of their throats.

Much too soon for her, he rolled to the side of her. She was about to protest when she realized that his arms had started to shake for the strain of trying to hold himself just slightly off of her. He curled into her side with his head resting on her shoulder. They both sighed in contentment.

"I should probably go…" Again, it was much too soon. She could sense the reluctance in his voice but understood the pull behind it.

"Stay." She breathed and felt him tense instantly. She immediately smiled and laughed slightly.

"Not forever, you idiot, but give yourself a break. Give yourself one hour. Just an hour Dean. Surely you deserve that?"

"Wh…? Huh?" She could feel him start to pull away and gently squeezed his shoulder to keep him in place.

"I have to be on the road in like an hour – my alarm's all set – so why don't you just let yourself relax and enjoy one hour? There's no hidden agenda, and Sam will be just fine for one more hour." She lightly brushed a hand across his short cropped hair.

"You sure?" He really didn't want to move. His muscles were still pulsing with the after effects of their activities, and he really did want to savour the moment. But Sam was alone. But only for an hour. He allowed himself to relax.

"That's not so bad, is it?" she murmured as she felt him relax into her. She couldn't explain why she felt so completely at ease with him. So safe. She knew it was just a one night thing, but he had made it special.

She continued to lightly stroke his shoulder, enjoying the feel of his well muscled body.

"You don't allow this for yourself much, do you?" she murmured. "I can see that you don't. I like to watch people and I'm pretty good at reading them. You are a giver, Dean. I could see that the minute I laid eyes on you at the ball. The way you looked at your brother when he was leaving the bar. It's even more obvious from the way you make love. You can tell a lot about a person from how they act in bed."

She glanced down at his face nestled in her shoulder. His breathing was deep and even, but even in the dim light of the motel, she could see his long dark lashes brushing his cheekbones. The blinks were getting farther apart, but he was listening to the soft cadence of her words.

"This might be a one night stand for both of us, but you don't have sex with a woman, Dean. You know how to make love to her. You give yourself. It's been my experience that that translates into how a person lives his life." She sighed, letting her eyes slowly slide down his entire length. As her eyes refocused on his beautiful face, she saw that his eyes had drifted shut.

"I think this is my favourite outfit of yours, Dean," she murmured softly into his hair, gently pressing her lips to his head before allowing herself to slip into sleep.

True to her word, the alarm sounded just a little over an hour later. Dean grazed her lips with his own as he slid off the bed, bending to grab his clothes on the way to the bathroom. He emerged fully dressed only minutes later.

Michelle lazed in the bed as she waited for him to finish, smiling to herself. As their eyes met, his smile answered hers. He strode over to the bed and leaned down to kiss her. She brushed her fingers lightly across his jaw line and through his hair.

"Thanks for a nice night," she smiled up at him as they broke the kiss.

"My pleasure," he grinned wickedly.

"If you're ever back in the area, you know where to find me if I'm in town."

"Don't be surprised…" his hand was on the door, he ducked his head, looking up through his lashes and smiled again. And then he was gone.


End file.
